The Bunny and The Bee
by NeutralStripes
Summary: Lincoln's been dating Lucy for a while now, but after realizing that she has a daughter, he feels a bit uneasy. Things take a much more unusual turn when he has to take care of her daughter while Lucy is out. They've never met before, so Lincoln is unprepared. While together, Lincoln and Lupa get a little too personal.


**I was gonna spend more time editing this and pacing it out, but I got kinda tired of pushing it off for later. I feel kinda 50/50 about this, but whatever. It started good but I got really impatient later on. The ending is super rushed and lame. I was gonna make it sexier but then I thought that I should do that for the next story. I took down some of my stories cuz they weren't finished or I just didn't like them. I'm gonna try to post whenever I can but I don't really have much time. I'll work on You'll Probably Go to Heaven, but I might end it soon cuz it's getting kinda cringy. I'm also gonna work on a new story that'll ultimately fail too, but we'll see. I also noticed that not a lot of people really like the Sin Kids anymore, not sure why. I wrote this a while back and didn't decide to change the characters. Other than that, enjoy, I guess.**

* * *

Lincoln gazed out the wide window of the coffee shop in an empty look, his thoughts flew past the rooftops and soared through the silver skies. The fat clouds threatened to burst at any moment and the howling breeze triumphed over the light chatter of the customers. The streets whispered with noise that was dull to his ears. The smell of coffee and fresh bread lingered in the air and lured his nose but his attention was elsewhere. It was going to rain soon and he was debating whether he should stay or not, but he didn't want to leave just in the off chance she showed up. He had a table for two in front of the window that displayed the street like a magnificent painting or a beautiful scene straight out of a movie. Definitely romantic, but she was half an hour late.

The image of her spun and danced in his mind as he waited patiently. He sought joy in memories alone and was tempted to call her, but he didn't want to seem needy. She tended to be late so it was no surprise. He knew well that she was busy with work and stuff, so he didn't want to rush her or anything. At least she always showed up in the end. Well, _almost _always. But hearing the evident shame in her usually monotone voice made it impossible to be mad at her.

His fingers dug into the crisp newspaper and brought it up to his face, trying to distract himself again in a sea of words. He looked at the cover and his eyes scanned lazily over the bold title: _Two Found Dead, Serial Killer Unknown. _Two separate photos of two young girls, cheerful and happy were joined next to each other. Their frozen smiles looked painful and forced. Their skin was smooth as wax and their eyes seemed vacant. They reminded him of lifeless puppets standing amongst people.

A cold shiver ran down his spine and an uneasy pang ran through his heart. Lincoln shook his head and brushed his worry away. He sighed reluctantly and rested his chin in his open palm like a sulking child. He was looking at the paper but his mind refused to make any sense of the words. He was completely stuck on her. She loves creepy stuff like this. For some reason, criminals, murders, and strange cases peaked her interest like nothing else. It was a bit odd, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't find any of it interesting too.

The bell above the door rang and an icy gust of wind came rushing in as someone entered. Lincoln spun around in his wooden chair and met the glance of a random old man who had just walked in. He must've noticed Lincoln's quick reaction because he looked over at him with a resting face that twisted in anger.

Lincoln turned back around, embarrassment burning his face, and stared back out the window in wishful thinking. The heat from his face ran down his back and disappeared as quickly as it came. He lost himself in the flowing clouds like a free bird. His shoulders fell and a defeated sigh escaped his lips. He hated himself for aching over her absence. As a child, he never understood how a couple can be so lovey-dovey and gross with each other, but now, as an adult, all he wanted was for her to be here with him. His body yearned for her warmth. His fingers went numb as the frost crept under his flesh. His heart ached just to hear her voice and his stomach turned in disgust.

He felt sappy for talking like a lovesick idiot, but it's true. Absolutely true. He's never felt this way before. Sure, he dated a couple of girls back in high school and college, but something about Lucy felt different. He's hugged and kissed plenty of girls before without feeling anything, but when it's with her, it's something new. He crumbles down and flutters away when she shoots him a gentle smile, or when she giggles, or when she leans on him.

An unsettling boom erupted in the distant sky and whatever sunlight that was left shyly hid behind the sea of black clouds. Another thunderous roar, this time closer, rose above the howling wind like two monsters fighting. Both finally clashed and, in a couple of seconds, small droplets of water sprinkled on the smooth glass with the pace of a ticking clock. People outside scurried around like frightened mice. Their heads were hung low and their clothes flailed around with the rolling winds. The night seemed to come early. Lincoln looked at his watch.

It was 4:37 p.m.

His arm fell dead back onto the table. From the corner of his eye, Lincoln saw the waitress walk up to his table with a bounce in her steps and a warm smile glued on her face that almost passed as genuine. She set a silver tray down on the table with a metallic clatter. She grabbed one cup of steaming coffee and rested it in front of him then placed another across where the seat stood cold and hollow. The waitress finally lifted a large plate with a loaf of sliced lemon bread and gently placed it in the middle of the table with tremendous care. Her dexterous hand moved steadily and swiftly like a falling feather. The smell of the bread snaked into his nose and made his mouth water.

Once the waitress left, Lincoln didn't hesitate to grab the first end of the bread and take a greedy bite. He chewed and swallowed. He refused to drink the coffee yet. For one, it was still hot. And also, he didn't want to ruin the intricate design on the surface. The milk was tight and swirled around lazily in the shape of a leaf with a heart at the tip. Lincoln huffed out a dry chuckle and went back to admiring the outside. The streets were painted wet and the trees thrashed about as if they too wanted to leave. The sound of the rain hissed in his ear and the rumbling in the air made his heart sink.

He should've brought an umbrella. A raincoat at least. Instead, he only wore khaki pants with an orange button-up shirt. It's his fault for neglecting his worries. The weather had been looking gloomy for the past week, but he didn't care. He wanted to dress well for her. It's a bit silly. A thousand dates later and he still cares about what he wears in front of her.

When Lincoln first met her, in this exact coffee shop, she was wearing a teal skirt that ended right above her knees, a simple white shirt that clung tightly to her bosom, and tan high heels that, surprisingly enough, didn't match her skin color. It was almost like someone dressed her. Lincoln didn't want to seem like he was staring at her, but she was just so… _odd_. Her shoulders were tight and she stood stiff as a board. Her back was straight like a pole and she shuffled forward, her feet barely lifting off the ground like she'd never worn high heels before. Her skin was frighteningly pale and her stoic face betrayed the colorful way she made herself seem. Her plain features and unseen eyes made her look ghostly. And when he asked her if she was okay, her voice was raspy as if she were sick. Two words. She only said two words that day, but Lincoln got so much of her character in the way she said it.

'I'm fine.'

The words dragged out of her mouth and fell out of thin air like a deflating balloon. Expressing herself was difficult and Lincoln knew that, but he always got a kick out of it when she did. At first, he had the impression that she was some kind of sassy goth who never got out of the '_depressed' _phase but turns out she just wasn't keen on wearing her heart on her sleeve like most people. Their first few dates were spent in awkward silence. When they left each other, a quick smile and a handshake seemed more fitting than a hug or a kiss, but they slowly eased into their blossoming relationship.

They went from acquaintances to friends, then from friends to a couple in a matter of two months. It was a bit painstaking at first since she rarely talked about, well, anything. When they went out on dates, she sat stiff like a zombie that had the appearance of a vampire. Lincoln thought she was playing hard to get and that only made him more passionate to break her down. Perseverance stood between him and a girl that was like no other. From afar, she was cold and distant. Even up close, she seemed detached and uninterested, but eventually, she whined down and got into sharing more about herself.

Lincoln was pretty surprised when he found out that she had nine sisters. He grew up an only child and entertained the idea of having a couple of little siblings, but he knew full well that having nine is complete hell. And they were all girls, no less. Must've been a madhouse where she lived. Well, that alone was a little surprise for the soul, but absolute shock ripped through his chest when she reluctantly told him that she had a daughter.

He acted like a complete idiot that night. He lay awake in his bed, contemplating whether that truly bothered him or not. And after fighting the idea for over an hour, he finally realized that it didn't. I mean, he was only fooling himself if he thought that Lucy was still a virgin. Yet, he built up this angelic figure around her, convincing himself that she was still pure in some way.

Ridiculous.

They're both grown adults, so it's only natural that they've experimented intimately with the other sex at some point in their lives. His charm and searing confidence made him popular among the ladies back when he was attending college. He's landed and fucked more girls than he can count, but he can never imaging Lucy having sex with anyone other than himself. That's only normal, right? After all, a man never thinks about all the other guys that their girlfriend had been with in the same way a woman and her man. That's just weird. Instead, he found comfort in telling himself that she was with him now and no one else. And yet, disappointment ruined any solace he found.

Hah, to think that his undying love for her would be challenged over the simple fact that she had a child.

And sex.

With another man.

Lincoln threw the piece of the lemon bread into his mouth and munched down fiercely. The taste melted in his mouth and his teeth sunk into the delicate texture of the bread. He shook his head for no particular reason, only finding that there was still dwindling rejection in the bottom of his heart over the settled matter. Looking out the window, he let the hissing rain wash out any rancid thoughts running rampant in his mind and ease the knots tying in his stomach. The bustling talk in the small coffee shop exploded with the intensity of a booming city. The mumbling washed over him in a wave of shame. The nape of his neck burned and his body went rigid. His chest was tight and his breathing was short and off. He knew no one was looking at him, but he felt sharp eyes burning the back of his head. No one was talking about him, yet he sat quietly still as if he was trying to preserve the last bit of his dignity.

He always hated this feeling; the feeling of loneliness. They stared at him, laughed at him. Couples all around enjoyed and cherished each other's company. Then there was him, sitting alone, staring out the window like a mysterious stranger longing for something more. He never said it, but he always cared about what people thought about him. He still does, actually. His parents made it evident that first impressions, opinions, and status mattered more than anything in the world.

When he visited friends, he dressed professionally. When he talked, his voice was mature. His posture was flawless, his vocabulary was advanced, and his priorities were on education and success. He was the cardboard cutout of a son that his parents wanted him to be: Obedient, tolerable, mannered and well-rounded. And he went along with their ways willingly. He didn't put up a fight. He wasn't tired of acting fake. He just dealt with it, because he knew his parents were right. When you're perfect, no one can judge you. Nothing and no one can hurt you. That's the way they raised him and it stuck to him like tape swaying loosely, but staying on his back forever.

Then there was Lucy.

She was a walking cadaver that was beyond normal. One look at her and Lincoln came undone. His fluent speech turned into a jumbled mess, his charm crumbled down around him, and he was so vulnerable. His soul caught ablaze with an unknown passion that was foreign to his heart. But, back then, he didn't know how to get her. He couldn't act suave the way he did with most girls. She looked at him with a stale face that hid all her emotion, if she even had any. Lincoln grew up a rich kid. His parents gave him just about everything he wanted and he never looked helpless in front of anyone. People fear power. And the easiest power is confidence. He never chased after any girl, never tried, and never displayed weakness. He lived a strict life, paid the price with his youth, and felt like he deserved every bit of respect that was coming his way. If he wanted friends, he'd expect them to come to him and make all the effort. If he wanted a girlfriend, he expected girls to come for him. He was superior to most and he knew it.

But when he met Lucy, he threw all his pride aside. He'd get on his hands and knees like a dog and beg as if she were a Goddess. He'd cry and promise everything just for her to stay. Some might think he'd look like a pussy, but in all honesty, he was scared; scared of losing the first girl he ever loved.

He'd never let her know that, though. She'd get too abusive with just that little info. Lincoln couldn't read her as he did with most girls. And it was because of her eyes. When people say 'the eyes are the window to the soul', they're right. Eye contact is everything when interacting with people. The more you break eye contact, the more nervous you look. And Jesus Christ was he nervous as fuck.

Talking to her was like talking to a carved statue. She didn't laugh at his funniest jokes and barely acknowledged him on their first date. Almost like she was only going out with him just to waste his time. But Lincoln made it obvious that he wasn't going to give up so easily.

Look at them now! Madly in love. She, running late like always, and him, waiting patiently.

Lincoln sighed a dreamy sigh. He loved every bit of her. It was like God carved her out of grace himself. Her curvaceous figure, thick thighs, and smooth skin drove him crazy. Her short scale made her look defenseless as he towered over her. When he held her down while they were making love, she quivered under his might. He ravaged her and brought a hot blush to her face that deceived her gothic, emotionless face. Even now, she rarely showed any emotions, even for him, but that's just her. He loved all her faults and quirks.

But there was one thing that always set him on edge and it's when she-

"Hey, Linc-"

Lincoln flinched and yelped. His leg jumped up and slammed under the wooden table, making the cups clatter and almost spill. Some people turned and looked at him, burning embarrassment rising but failing over his racing heart. He turned and held a hand over his beating heart like he was digging into his chest. Lucy stood before him, wearing an inky black raincoat, a line of a smile touching her face. Both of her hands were in front of her, holding onto her wet umbrella and purse like a schoolgirl. She stood there innocently, knowing full well that Lincoln doesn't like it when she pops up out of nowhere and scares him like that. Usually Lincoln would pinch her cheeks hard, leaving a crimson stain, but he wasn't going to do it now. Maybe later. Lincoln wasn't too old, but he felt that one day she'd scare him like that and he'd just drop dead. Yeah, he'd be pretty pissed if that happened.

"Holy shit," Lincoln said through breathlessness, " w-when did you come in?"

He didn't even hear the chime of the door.

"Just now," She said plainly, walking over and floating into her seat. A hint of a satisfied smirk touched her face. Or maybe not. It was a Mona Lisa smile whose meaning eluded him. She loved scaring him, only because she knew how much he hated it. She was like a ninja, Lincoln remembered teasing. One second she's nowhere in sight, then the next she's right behind him. Maybe an apparition was more befitting of her. Yeah, that was obviously it. Lucy Loud was a specter that appeared and disappeared as she pleased, scaring the shit out of anyone _and _everyone.

Especially him.

You see, normal couples laugh and sweet talk with each other. Normal couples cuddle and play fight. Normal couples do everything to look normal in front of other people. Lucy teleports behind him like she's going to snap his neck. Lucy reads her morbid poems while they lay down, Lincoln hoping they could watch a movie instead of hearing her talk about death and monsters. Lucy _wasn't _normal. She was unpredictable, imperfect and nothing like Lincoln. She was his foil. She wrapped around him tightly like a new set of skin. No, she was more like a warm sweater in the winter breeze. Lincoln didn't want to let go of her, because when she's gone, the frost sinks into his skin and freezes his bones. He feels vulnerable without her.

Lincoln let out a quick, dry chuckle. Brought his wrist up to his face by instinct and looked at his watch. He noticed Lucy flinch, but he honestly didn't mean anything by it. He felt like a complete dick now.

"Sorry I'm late," Lucy croaked out through her raspy voice. She let out a defeated sigh and her shoulders fell. "I couldn't find anyone to take care of Lupa."

_Oh_, was all Lincoln could think of. Lucy rarely talked about Lupa; Well, more like he hardly listened, but from what he did understand about _Lupa _was that she was bratty and entitled for no apparent reason. She grew up with as much love and care that a single mother can provide, yet she was ungrateful and ill-tempered like most twelve-year-olds her age. Damn, when Lincoln was her age, he respected his parents like they were Gods, because, in his eyes they pretty much were. _They _were rich, not him. _They _owned the house, not him. _They _bought everything he had, not him. There's an old saying that went along the lines of '_Don't bite the hand that feeds you_.' His parents brought him into this world and they had every right to take him out. What reason did he have to fight or rebel against them? Back in his high school days, the common teen would be potheads in the making, causing a ruckus, and vandalizing everything. They were little devils. Not Lincoln thought. That kind of attitude was beneath him. He attended a private school where he was surrounded by young adults that matched his professional caliber. His values were fixed on God and winning. He was an overachiever, a perfectionist, all for the sake of his parents because they wanted what was best for him and he did too.

Oh God, and what was that name? _Lupa._ It sounded gross just thinking about it. He couldn't blame her for that one, though. Lucy told him long ago about how her parents gave her and all her sisters names that were four letters long and started with the letter L. It was cute, sure, but he didn't understand why she and her sisters had to do it too. I mean, learning her sister's name was a pain in the ass. It was the hardest test he'd ever have to take. Studying the names over and over again then matching it to the face or throwing a random name out there and hoping it stuck. And as a last resort, he'd say '_hey man' _or '_how's it going, dude'_.

The only one he knew from the bottom of his heart was Lily. She had the name of a flower, duh. He kind of expected her to be some kind of free-spirited, tree-hugging hippie, but she was much smarter than she let on. Unfortunately, she wasted her potential trying to pursue a dwindling talent in art. He'll admit, her paintings were more interesting than all the shit anyone has ever tossed around in art museums, but he'd never waste a buck on it. He admired her risk immensely. Not a lot of people are willing to surrender their education and pride for doodles and drawings.

When he was younger, he too found a keen interest in art. The paintings he created were serene and magnificent. The vibrant colors of all types of mediums shined with a blinding glow. He was a master at his craft. He hung up his pieces around his room like posters and cherished his art supplies like sacred relics. He drew refurbished sketches of all kinds of characters and figures, wanting to practice animation at its core. Maybe make a cartoon show or a movie, but his eyes were set on illustrations.

He loved picture books and superheroes. His favorite was Ace Savvy, but he rarely spoke about it. He kept it hidden like a terrible secret because it was that same comic books that strayed him away from the path to success. His parents believed that his passion for art was nothing more than a silly hobby. They didn't know he wanted to approach a study in art, or that he wanted to attend an Art Academy, but he was too ashamed to tell his parents. Instead, he listened to his parents and sought a career in business like his wealthy father.

Unlike Lily, Lincoln had parents that cared for his future. Lynn Sr. was a hard-working man that was unfortunate enough to be cursed with bountiful daughters and not a single proud son. He prioritized his work so he can provide for his large family respectively, clearly leaving little attention for his daughters. Maybe if he had a couple of children instead, he could've focused his efforts more easily. Lincoln couldn't say that all of the Louds were inept to success. Some, like Lori, Lisa, and his lovely Lucy, took the initiative and pushed themselves. Lori was a marketing manager for a high-paying tech company. She was a fierce woman that didn't bow or surrender so easily. Lincoln is reluctant to say that she is the one woman that he fears the most. She's always on her phone, texting, making calls, and dresses perfectly for the role she's in. She shrugs and ignores all those that are insignificant or unimportant. When he talks to her, she glances at him from the corner of her eyes, acknowledging his existent but not giving him the attention he deserves. First, she deals with her own little problems, then talks with him last.

To think that a woman could have the audacity to treat him like that. He knows that Lori's had a pretty rough upbringing and enjoys here standing in life, but she's nothing more than a bug under his shoe. Who does she honestly think she is? Lori works at a petty tech shop, Lincoln practically runs a thriving business. She's nothing like him.

Then there's Lisa; a studious young lady that is gifted with an amazing mind. There's only a handful of things that Lucy's said about her. From what Lincoln can understand, Lisa is a recluse. She keeps to herself and does absolutely everything to know more and more while also interacting less and less. Her great mind allowed her to graduate from college at the tender age of twenty. She rarely leaves the house and has everything shipped to her. The only time she gets out is when she has to go to work.

There's nothing else to say about her; She's smart and that's it. Despite her affinity for knowledge, a quality in her that Lincoln admires, he doesn't like her that much. It's mainly 'cuz she _loves _to ridicule him. When she first laid eyes on his white hair, she gawked over it, made a scene and everything. She got too close. Too much talking, too much touching.

'_Ah, such a rare sight. Delicate texture, smooth as silk. So odd. It's clearly not an unwarranted condition of albinism. You seem to possess the features of a normal person and yet your hair is of alien color. Mind if I take a strand?'_

Yes, he does mind. Lincoln made it obvious that he didn't like the attention. No, he didn't like his hair color. No, he didn't like people talking about it. And no, he especially didn't like people touching it. It's been a pain in the ass ever since he was a kid. All the teasing and nicknames. The buck teeth popping out of his mouth didn't help either.

The only one who understood him was Lucy. All the Loud daughters have blonde hair, but Lucy's hair was black as tar. She was the spooky, emo one of the family, but she didn't go through any 'rebel' phase as was expected. That one was Luna. Instead, Lucy wanted to be left alone. As a child, she spent most of her time reading and writing. Fortunately, all that practice paid off. She's a successful author amongst teens. She writes of horror and suspense. Her greatest inspiration were poets like Edgar Allan Poe and H.P. Lovecraft. She tries making poetry like them, but that's best left unpublished. Not that she's bad or anything. Lincoln bets that she's better than any old poet. Her writing blows them out of the water.

It's just why try something new when she already has the recipe for success. She's good at writing books. Teens love it. The best thing to do is to keep dishing it out. Why fix what's not broken, right? After all, _any _idiot can write poetry; Depressed teens, 'hopeful' youths, activists.

Not that he's calling Lucy an idiot or anything! Her poetry is better than any crap he's ever read… not that he's calling poetry crap either. If she loves poetry then he does too. But her success is due to the fact that she's different.

The quiet ones have the loudest minds: Lincoln believed that. Who knows what Lucy Loud thinks about when she sits there quietly. Most girls think about trivial matters, but not her. She's different from everyone else and only God knows what runs around in her mind.

"Good thing Lynn was free today," Lucy said.

"Huh," Lincoln blurted out, waking up from his mindless stupor.

"Lynn," Lucy repeated. "She's taking care of Lupa for me,"

_Oh_, was all Lincoln could think of. Lucy rarely talked about Lu- wait a minute. How old was she? Twelve? Jesus Christ, you've got to be kidding. His parents left him home alone when he was far younger. They were busy people so Lincoln had to step up and understand that they couldn't always be there for him. Clearly Lucy was being too nice to the kid. It wouldn't be a surprise if she turned all soft after all that 'rebel' crap.

"I still don't see why you won't let her stay by herself," Lincoln said while reaching for another slice of sweet bread. He noticed that Lucy was holding a slice with half a bite taken. She munched blissfully and swallowed.

"Believe me, I want to. I know she can take care of herself, I just don't trust her," Lucy brought the bread up close to her lips but then pulled away and snapped her attention back to Lincoln. She pointed an accusing finger at him. "Remember the last time I left her home alone?"

"Yeah," Lincoln said.

Last time Lupa was left alone, Lucy couldn't find her. She flipped the house upside down looking for her. She called her phone over and over again, thinking that she was out and about, or maybe she ran away, but she left her phone in her room. It was only after an hour of dreaded waiting did Lupa finally show up. Turns out she was sleeping in the attic. No one knows why and Lucy was too emotional to even ask.

"And I only freaked out because of the time before that," Lucy said.

So, the time _before _that, Lupa actually did run away. Not necessarily _run away_, more like _ran off. _She spent the whole day with her delinquent friends at the park and didn't come back until the dead of night. Lucy was worried sick and crying. She called Lincoln for support 'cuz Lupa was gone and all that. Lincoln remembered it as clear as day only because he's never heard Lucy so scared. The tears caught in her throat, her words came out as a jumbled mess, and her breathing was rugged. In the end, she was a whimpering mess, like a scared puppy.

"Right," Lincoln said blandly.

He took a fat bite into the soft bread like a barbarian. Lucy sipped from her boiling cup with the grace of a queen. They sat there in pregnant silence while everyone around them partied about. The warm, orange light touching their skin countered the dark gloom that was outside. The streets were vacant now and only a couple of cars hissed by in a flash. The rain poured down like a torrent of bullets and the wind ran like mad. Trees swayed dangerously. A flag in the distance, once slithering calmly in the breeze, was now spasming wildly. Despite the rowdy talking around them, they didn't feel uncomfortable sitting in silence. Time went on peacefully as both Lincoln and Lucy cherished each other's company. This must be what getting old feels like.

If so, then he'd love to grow old with her.

Lucy hummed sharply with the coffee still up to her lip. She swallowed hastily and set down the cup.

"Are you still going to Washington next month?" Lucy asked.

"In three weeks, yeah," Lincoln replied, hope rising in his chest. "You coming with?"

He wanted her to go with him. Lincoln said he was going for 'work-related business' but it was more of an unofficial trip. He just didn't want Lucy to drag her daughter along. He planned it out for just the two of them. Something… nice. They'd stay in Washington for a week, touring the monuments and all that. They'd do as much as they can and if things got too dull there, then he'd take her up to New York. She always talked about how pretty it is over there. No problem. Whatever she wanted, he'd do it for her. Well, there is one problem.

"I want to," Lucy looked down at her cup, her head barely hanging, not in shame but in thought. "But I don't know if anyone's willing to take care of Lupa for a full week."

"Can't Lynn do it or something?" Lincoln asked pitifully. "I mean, she's a P.E. teacher, right? How hard is it to find a substitute for that? It's just exercise. And I'm sure getting a week off shouldn't be that hard either. She's been working there for how long? 3 years? I'm sure they'll let her do it."

Lucy gave a grimace of uncertainty. Her shoulders tightened and her lips bunched up into a thin line.

"I don't know. I've kind of been bothering her a lot lately," Lucy looked back up at Lincoln and stared blankly into his eyes. He couldn't make out anything past her dark bangs, but he could feel her eyes pressing onto his. "Believe me, Lynn's just about the only one who can handle it, but I know not to push my luck. The last thing I want to do is make her take a week off work."

"How about Luan?" Lincoln tried. "She's super funny. I'm sure she's great with kids. Taking care of her for a week should be a breeze. And who knows? It might be fun for the both of them. "

"Hm, I wish, but she has her own kids to take care of," Lucy shook her head. "Those twins can be quite the handful."

"Well, how about Leni," Lincoln added. "Or Luna?"

"I-" Lucy swallowed the words in her mouth. She paused briefly as if the act of talking never crossed her mind. "No," was her simple response.

Damn, Lincoln thought, nine Loud sisters, all ambitious in their own way, yet all equally useless at the moment.

"How about your mom?" Lincoln suggested. "She loves kids," Hah, of course she does, she had ten of 'em. "What kind of mother doesn't want to spend time with their grandkid, amirite?"

Lucy shot him a quick, faint smile of affirmation.

"I'll think about it," Lucy said. "How about Amanda or Clyde?"

Lincoln flinched.

"No, Clyde's dad's birthday is just a couple of days after we leave, so he won't be leaving with us. He said he'll try meeting up with us in D.C. but I doubt he'll make it since he and Penelope have their own things going on. And Amanda… just isn't going."

"Hm?" Lucy wondered. "Why not?"

Lincoln shrugged cluelessly.

"Don't know," Lincoln said, but he knew full well that neither of them were going in the first place. In fact, Lincoln never invited them. Seems a bit cruel, sure, but the despise will be worth it if it means spending a lovely week alone with Lucy.

Just as his silly thought finished, Lucy's phone vibrated. She reached into her pocket and fished out her phone. She glanced at the screen for a second, turned it off and put it face down on the table.

"I'm sure she has her reason," Lincoln added. He sighed out a dry chuckle. "She'll regret it, though. Clyde too. They're missing out on some fun stuff. Any chance to go out traveling is definitely worth the time, right?"

"Right," Lucy responded. She paused for a second. "So, it's going to be just me and you?" She said with a smirk on her face, her words flowing seductively into his ear.

Lincoln shot her a devilish grin. He should've known that she was smart enough to at least get the idea. He looked at her plump lips. A light shade of pink rested on them, bringing out the only color on her pale features. Lincoln licked his dry lips out of instinct then looked back up to where her eyes hid behind her bangs.

"If you're up for it, then yeah," Lincoln reassured in a low, romantic tone that came out cheesier than he thought. "Just me and you."

Lucy chuckled. Her bubbly laughter betrayed her bleak characteristics and brought life to her cheeks that was gone in a second. The short, simple sight of it was enough for it to leave Lincoln wanting more. His heart soared in the thought that he was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of such a sight. Lucky indeed.

"You're a dork, you know that?" Lucy said. Lincoln shrugged casually, his head leaning into his shoulder and his heart coming to his throat. "Fine, okay."

"Fine, okay," Lincoln repeated, he waved his hand in a _go on_ motion, nodding his head like a fool and a goofy smile plastered on his face. "And what?"

Lucy rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. Her shoulders fell and she looked off to the side in loving embarrassment. She fought back the smile that stretched across her face, trying to look somewhat serious but failing miserably. She just never could with him.

"Okay, I'll go to Washington for a week with you," She dragged out mockingly. Lincoln pumped his fist in his mind and patted himself on the back. "If I can find someone to take care of Lupa first."

Lincoln died a bit on the inside. His eye twitched. He wanted to scream and tear his hair out, but he nodded his head fairly instead.

"I'm sure mom'll be okay with it," Lucy said more to herself than anyone.

"Well, if worse comes to worst then I'm sure she can stay home alone for a week, right?" Lincoln suggested.

Michigan wasn't the most dangerous place in the world, but just like any state, it has its sketchy spots. Lincoln can say with firm reassurance that they are nowhere near any sketchy parts, so it all rests on that little girl and how she acts which isn't making him feel any more hopeful. But if Lincoln could grow up as a latchkey kid for a majority of his childhood then he's pretty sure just about any dumb preteen can take care of themselves for a single week.

He sat there looking at Lucy and her staring back at him. She hung her head a bit and looked at the floor for an answer. She tossed the idea around her head as if she was tasting fine wine. And just as Lincoln predicted, it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"If worse comes to worst," Lucy repeated.

Lincoln smiled at her unexpected answer and she smiled back.

Lucy's phone vibrated again. She groaned and snatched the phone from the table. She looked at it, tapped on the screen a bit with her thumb then went into texting. She sent whatever she typed, turned off the phone and set it back onto the table.

"Sorry, I-"

Before she could finish, the phone quickly vibrated again. She picked it back up, typed a couple of things, sent it and rested her phone on the table.

"Busy?" Lincoln asked mockingly.

"Funny," Lucy responded. She took a sip from the tiny cup and set it back down onto the table. "Have you talked with James yet?"

"No," Lincoln said grimly. "I haven't found the time for us to meet up and stuff."

"You should at least try before going to Washington. I'm really worried about him," Lucy said.

"I know, me too," Lincoln said bitterly, looking at the slow swirling of his coffee. "He's been kinda creeping me out lately."

"What do you mean?" Lucy asked, but Lincoln shrugged.

"I don't know, something about the way he acts is just weird." Lincoln's brow pinched and a dangerous thought juggled in his mind. "I think he might be depressed."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Lucy added. "I just didn't think he'd take it so badly,"

"Can you honestly blame him?" Lincoln asked. Lucy shook her head in distaste. "Have you talked with Jasmine yet?"

Lucy sighed at the mention of that name.

"Yes," Lucy said.

"And?" A mix of worry and disgust spread across Lincoln's face, a brow raised in curiosity and a fist clenched in rage.

"She doesn't care," Lucy replied. Lincoln shook his head this time.

"Bitch," he mumbled under his breath.

"I know, She said she's been trying to break it off with James for a while now but never got the chance," Lucy said.

"Yeah, and cheating on him was the perfect way to do it, huh?" Lincoln said sarcastically. Lucy let out a dry laugh.

"You know, I always knew Jasmine was kinda… slutty, but I would've thought she had at least some kind of modesty when it came to dating."

"Right? And did you hear what happened to his parents? I mean, I've got to admit, that's pretty freakin' heavy, b-but he just acts like everything's okay. He's _absolutely _quiet. I literally haven't heard a word from him since he broke up with her. Or not even when his parents split." Lincoln waved an accusing finger at Lucy and his face scrunched up in focus. "You know what his problem is? He's too… too proud, you know? I mean, h-he-"

"Yeah, I get what you mean. He tries to pretend like nothing gets to him. But that's kinda dangerous if you think about it. Keeping all those bad emotions bottled up like that isn't good for him. That's why I want you to go check up on him."

"And do what?" Lincoln chuckled. "Make him cry?"

Lucy giggled back. "I mean, it's better than him being completely emotionless like the way he is."

"Oh, that's rich, hearing about emotions coming from you," Lincoln said. A sly smirk stretched across Lucy's face.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Lucy asked. Lincoln shot her a quick kiss, but Lucy just shook her head.

"Anyways, I doubt he's going to be so open about it. Seriously, I've known the guy since middle school and it still feels like I don't know everything about him."

"See, that's _your _problem." Lucy accused. "You don't try hard enough."

Lincoln's eyes widened and his jaw fell at her words. He placed a gentle hand over his wounded heart and feigned hurt. His mouth moved but no words came out.

"Oh, wh-wh, I-I, ugh. I'm offended Lucy," Lincoln said sarcastically. " I really am. I _always _try hard enough. How do you think I became so successful and handsome?"

Lucy raised a hand and shielded her mouth from letting out a silly snicker. Lincoln knew full well that her mocking laughter was aimed at his silly joke, but still, he felt blown away by that beautiful sound.

"That's not what I meant," Lucy reassured. "I mean you don't try hard enough with friends and stuff."

"Oh, friends and stuff," Lincoln repeated mockingly. " Ew, you mean _socializing_? The stuff that humans do."

"Yes, Lincoln, the stuff that humans do."

"Alright then, I'll talk to him," Lincoln reassured. "After the trip."

"Fine," Lucy smirked, feeling a swelling sense of victory.

Her phone rang like a thunderous song. She groaned. She already knew who was calling without looking. She picked up her phone and looked at the screen. Yup, it was her sister. She swiped and lifted the phone up to her ear. She turned her head towards the window.

"Hello?" Lucy said with her monotone voice. Lincoln heard a voice on the other line, their words came out like a torrent of nonsense. They were barking out jumbled words like a cartoon. "Okay."

Lucy turned her head slightly back to Lincoln. He couldn't be certain, but Lincoln was just about positive that she was looking at him behind her bangs. He stared back at her but then quickly felt uneasy. His eyes dropped to the table, looking at the remaining pieces of bread and got a slice.

"Okay," Lucy repeated, there was a quick pause on the other line then it went back to loud shouting. "Okay."

It was probably Lori, he thought. Out of all the Loud sisters, she was the loudest. Actually, that was probably Luna. No, she was only loud with her music. It was definitely Lori.

"Right now?" Lucy asked, this time facing Lincoln. She sighed. "Okay. I'll be there in a bit. Bye, Lynn."

Hm, he was wrong.

She got up in a flash, her chair screeching beneath her. She picked up her belongings and looked at Lincoln with a second of silence. He sat still looking at her.

"Come on," Lucy said.

He got up without a word and followed her out into the cold afternoon. The wet breeze sprinkled bits of icy rain on their faces. Lucy's dark hair flailed around and brushed Lincoln's face as they exited the little coffee shop. So much for a romantic date.

Lucy scurred back to her car as Lincoln followed closely behind. He saw Lucy's car in the parking lot and made his way like he knew what he was doing. He heard the click of the car door unlock and jumped in without waiting. Just as he got into the passenger seat and closed the door, Lucy did the same and started the car.

"So what happened?" Lincoln asked.

"Lynn's work called her in," Lucy said. "And she needs someone to drive her to work."

"Oh," was all Lincoln said.

They drove on without saying a word to each other. The only thing breaking the uncomfortable silence was the soft music coming from the radio. It was Bruno Mars. He didn't know what song it was but he recognized the voice. He looked off to his side and out the window. The sky was covered with dark clouds. The day seemed bleak and gloomy without even having a minute of sun. It was already drizzling and he was just waiting for the water to come tumbling down.

The streets were emptied at this point. A random car zoomed by every now and then. The stores huddled next to each other had their bright lights on and were still open but the vacant interiors made it seem abandoned. He guessed that everyone else thought today was going to be a good day too.

In just a minute, they were already a block away from Lucy's house. The light rain coated the front windshield more and more with every passing second. The window wipers moved left and right, clearing the window for a moment before going at it again. And again.

They stopped at an intersection. Across the street, Lucy's house was in full view now. A two-floor, white-walled structure with a navy blue rooftop. A red-painted pathway trailed from the entrance of her latch gate and trailed up to the house door. A large tree loomed over a part of the garden. It swayed gently and leaves fell like feathers onto the grass below. Bushes and flowers ran along the wall of her short fence that looked beautiful.

Lincoln's brow pinched and his eyes narrowed. He leaned a little bit forward and tried to focus on the figure in front of Lucy's door. They wore an orange flash reflective raincoat, hunched over with the hoodie over their head and hands tucked under their armpits. As they drove closer Lincoln's look of confusion fell and a sly smile crawled onto his face. He tried to nudge at Lucy but his elbow stabbed the air.

"Hey, look," Lincoln pointed at Lynn. "It's your sister."

She reminded him of a traffic cone. He mustered all of his strength not to laugh at that idiot. Why not just wait inside? Then again, in the one year he knew Lynn, Lincoln knew that she wasn't the patient type. She was assertive and outgoing. That part of her made her admirable and annoying.

Lucy pulled up to the curb and came to a stop. Lynn noticed and rushed over. She ran to the passenger side where Lincoln was and opened the door. Rain sprinkled onto his side and a cold gust of wind hit his face.

"Get out," Lynn commanded.

Lincoln rolled his eyes and did as he was told. He shuffled out of the car and Lynn quickly slithered in. He ducked his head in some attempt to hide from the rain but the rain sprayed his head and back. Lynn always rod shotgun and Lincoln was done fighting over it.

He remembered the first time they argued over it. The first time he gave it to her just to be nice, but after that, he stood his ground and said no. It got so bad that they fought over the damn spot. Like, literal fistfights. She may not look it, but she was a hard hitter despite her thin arms. She hit like a truck.

But Lincoln wasn't a pussy either. She might be a girl, but he wasn't afraid of hitting her. She was a pro at wrestling so she was always doing some tough ass moves on him here and there.

It was all fun and games, Lincoln guessed, but then something happened and it all got… weird. Thank God Lucy never noticed. They agreed to never talk about it and Lincoln just steeled himself to always giving her the front seat.

Lynn slammed the door in his face and shot him a shitty grim that made his eye twitch. He was about to go to the back but Lucy called him.

"Lincoln," she shouted. He dipped his head back and looked at Lucy. "Imma take Lynn to work real quick. I need you to take care of Lupa for me."

She reversed and drove a bit into the street. Lincoln's brows pinched in confusion. He leaned a bit and shouted out, "wait, why don't I just-"

Lucy leaned over to the passenger window and shouted out.

"She hasn't eaten yet. Buy her some pizza, please. She loves that stuff. I'll pay you back later," then she drove off.

Lincoln's stood alone for a moment, looked at the house, then down the street, then back to the house. He sucked his teeth and cursed under his breath. He should've just driven Lynn to work and have Lucy stay with her daughter. He felt his wet shirt slowly sticking to his warm back and an electric shiver ran down his spine. Goosebumps quickly covered his skin. He turned to the house, ran past the lawn and stopped at the door.

He knocked and waited. A minute passed and nothing. He knocked again and rang the doorbell. He waited and waited but he was greeted again with nothing. Another gust of cold wind swept by and that's when he decided to act. He reached for the knob, turned it and the door opened with no resistance. He jarred it open and peeked his head in.

"Hello," he called out. "Anyone home?"

He slowly walked in and closed the door behind him. The interior looked nice. To his right was the living room. A flat-screen TV hung above a small fireplace that was complemented with a dark gray rug a step away from it. There was an L-shaped sofa that fit perfectly in the corner below the window that ran across the wall and bent in the corner, stopping right at the end of the sofa.

He walked over to the living room and over to the window. The peach curtains were drawn halfway but just enough to look outside. The world was in an odd state of limbo. Dim light managed to shine through the cluster of clouds but only a little bit. The rain came crashing down in a peaceful sound of static. Lincoln cursed again. How long was this gonna last, he wondered.

He pulled away from the window and his eyes landed on the fireplace. A little warmth sounded nice but he wasn't sure how to get it started. And he'd rather not burn the place down.

"Hello," Lincoln shouted. "Is anyone here?"

God, he sounded like he was calling for a ghost. Then again, he might as well be. Lucy's daughter might not even be here. From what he knew, she was very keen on leaving whenever she wanted. But going out in the rain? Probably not.

He was about to walk into the kitchen but heard a faint creak to his side. He turned and looked at the stairs. Halfway down, Lupa froze with a towel and her hands over her head. Their eyes met and they stared at each other for a moment. Her eyes widened a bit in shock but made no other move. Her lids hung low as if she was sleep deprived.

Lincoln looked down at her black shirt. It had some random letters across it with a lightning bolt down the middle. His eyes went down a bit lower and noticed she was wearing nothing but tight black underwear. He cringed and turned away quickly. He faced the home door, looking at the details of the wood, then looked down to his feet. He felt her eyes burning into the back of his neck and his shoulders grew tense.

"Can you put on some pants or something?" Lincoln asked. Lupa's shock crawled away and a crooked smirk crossed her face.

"Sure. You're Lincoln, right?" She scrubbed her hair with the towel a bit more before finally wrapping it tightly around her waist. "Lucy's boyfriend."

"Yeah," Lincoln replied. That must be Lupa then, Lincoln thought.

"Thought so," Lupa said. "She talks a lot about you."

Lincoln couldn't help but blush. He never knew she talked to people about him. He wondered if she said good things about him. His heart fluttered and his chest swelled with pride. He smiled at the thought of Lucy rambling about how cool and handsome he was. He doubted there was anything really bad to say about him. He did his best to make himself seem perfect. Almost as perfect as Lucy. But then again, he wasn't completely sure. He was tempted to ask the girl what Lucy says about him.

"Yeah, she talks a lot about you too." Was all Lincoln could say.

"You can turn around know, pedo", Lupa said, emphasizing the last word.

He felt a jab at his chest at that word. He growled and brushed it away though. He slowly turned and saw her standing at the same spot, this time the towel covered her lower half. His tense shoulders dropped and his eyes shot up to her head. His eyes quickly spotted the set of white hair that stopped just above her shoulders. Her silver locks shined in the light and he couldn't help feeling astonished and offended. Lupa noticed him staring.

"You like it? I got it done a couple of days ago." She smiled and brushed a bit of hair behind her ear. "Lucy told me she was dating someone who had white hair and fucked up teeth, so I thought 'hey, why not?' Too bad she doesn't like it though."

Lincoln's nose flared just enough for her to notice. His eyes narrowed and his brows pinched. He never really said it, but Lincoln was absolutely self-conscious about his body. Well, not his body but his features. As long as he can remember, he's always been picked on for his hair and teeth. Bullies called him a weirdo and others kept their distance like he was a circus freak. Now, there was this little girl making fun of him. He guessed Lucy did talk bad about him.

The girl giggled.

"You know, when I first heard about you, I thought she finally lost it and started dating some old dude but you don't look _that _old." She took a couple of steps down the stairs but came to an abrupt stop. "Oh, wait. I got something to complete the whole look." She ran up the stairs and disappeared around the corner.

Lincoln mustered up all his strength not to turn around and walk out the door. The cold rain doesn't sound that bad anymore. He would, honestly, but then Lucy would get mad at him. And he doesn't want that on his hands. Lucy is a bit scary when she's mad, cuz she did the exact opposite of what you'd expect out of normal anger. She was calm, still, and stone-faced. She talked in a low, patronizing tone that somehow had an edge to it. Almost like she was holding a knife to your throat.

The girl game back down the stairs with something clutched in her hand. She shoved it in her mouth and fiddled around with it. When she was done, she removed her hand from her mouth and showed Lincoln. His face fell and he glared at her with an annoyed look.

She wore plastic hillbilly teeth. They were yellowish and crooked. There was a large gap between the middle that somewhat reminded him of his buck teeth. He felt shameful but kept his face stoned.

"No?" Lupa asked. Thinking about it, dying her hair probably wasn't worth the joke.

"You're not funny," Lincoln stated. She shrugged it off.

"Yeah, comedy isn't my strong suit." She mumbled through the plastic. She removed the teeth and held them in her hand. It glimmered in the salvia that was left behind. "That would be my aunt Luan's thing."

She held her hand out with the teeth.

"Here, a souvenir." She said. Lincoln leaned away and his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"No thanks." He said.

She held her hand out for a couple of seconds. Her smile disappeared and she threw the plastic teeth over her shoulder. She walked over to the living room and slumped into the sofa. She reached for the remote on the coffee table and turned on the TV with a click. She skimmed through channels mindlessly in half interest until she stopped on a show. It was something about tattoos.

"So where'd Lucy go?" She asked without taking her eyes off the screen.

"She went to go drop Lynn off at work," Lincoln said, which reminded him of something. He walked over to the living room and took a seat on the farthest side of the sofa. Lupa looked at where he sat, her eyes ran up and scanned his face then quickly turned back to the screen. "Which is kind of weird cuz she doesn't work on Fridays. What'd you do?"

She let out a dry breath from her nose.

"Nothing," Lupa said. "Just annoyed her, I guess."

"How?" Lincoln asked.

She shrugged. They sat in silence. Lincoln glued his attention to the show so that he wouldn't have to talk to Lupa but with every passing minute, he grew uncomfortable. His wet clothes weren't helping either. Luckily, he wasn't drenched but there's no way he can walk home without coming down with a cold. He sighed and hoped that watching TV was all he was going to do until Lucy came back. The TV went mute for a second and he heard a growl come from Lupa. He turned to her and it came again.

"Hungry?" He asked.

"Yeah," She said plainly.

"Well, your mom said you haven't eaten yet so you can order pizza," Lincoln said exactly as Lucy said.

"Cool," Lupa said with a familiar monotone voice. He stared at her but she didn't move. His eyes fell to the ground and quickly back to the screen. He reached into his pocket and fished out his phone. The screen lit up and displayed the time.

3:47 p.m.

He sighed and held his phone out to the girl.

"Here, have it delivered. I'll pay for it." Lincoln said.

He kept his hand at a distance as if she was going to bite if he got to close. She looked at the phone then to his eyes. She turned back to the TV.

"You order it," she commanded.

Lincoln flinched at what she said. Rude, she was rude. He did his best to compose himself.

"I don't even know what kind of pizza you like," Lincoln said with a bit of venom to his words.

"Pepperoni, same as everyone else," Lupa said.

Lincoln left his hand out, thinking she would take his phone if he waited long enough but she didn't. He mumbled under his breath and dialed his favorite pizza place. He wouldn't be surprised if they weren't delivering right now. After all, the weather did take a turn for the worst.

After a few rings, they answered. Luckily enough, they were delivering. He placed his order, gave them the address, his name and hung up. The price wasn't so bad. Twelve bucks for a small pizza with delivery.

"Did you get anything to drink?" Lupa asked.

"Is there anything to drink here?" Lincoln asked back.

"Water," Lupa replied.

"Then you'll drink water," Lincoln said.

She sucked her teeth. For some reason it bothered him a lot.

"Look, if you wanted something to drink then you shoulda called then," Lincoln said.

"Fine," He held out her hand with her palm up. "Gimme your phone, I'll call back."

Lincoln tossed his phone to the soft cushion beside her. She stared at him with her hand still out. A smirk crept onto Lincoln's face that bugged her so much. She snatched his phone from where it landed and dialed back.

"Hello," She looked Lincoln in his eyes. He didn't dare look away. His face scrunched up and did his best to look intimidating. She grinned. "Yeah, some idiot called a minute ago about a pizza delivery." She paused. "Yeah, that one. I wanted to get a drink with it too. A liter of coke."

Lincoln's face twisted in confusion. There's no way she was going to drink all that. Whatever, she was just trying to be a jackass.

"And what are your options on chicken wings?" She asked. "Alright, I'll get the ten pieces then."

Lincoln stood up and she followed his gaze.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Yeah, hot," Lupa spoke into the phone with a devilish grin on her face.

Lincoln took a step toward her and she shot up in a flash. He walked towards her but she jumped to the opposite side of the coffee table, her towel hanging loosely around her hips.

"That's fine," she spoke into the phone. Her eyes stayed dead on Lincoln's and mirrored his moves. When he went left, she went right. When he went right, she went left. They ran around the coffee table like fools.

"Stop," Lincoln hissed.

Lincoln finally committed running to the right. Lupa was not prepared and quickly went in the opposite direction. A giggle escaped her lips that sounded warm and recognizable. The towel slipped off gently and fell to the ground with a soft thud. Her black underwear came back into view. She noticed and Lincoln gasped. He spun around and kept his eyes away. Lupa pressed the phone against her chest.

"You can look, but you can't touch okay?" She said with that damned smile.

"Shut up," was all Lincoln could say. His face burned in both anger and embarrassment. Lupa brought his phone back to her ear.

"How much? $25.50?" Lupa repeated obnoxiously. Lincoln spun back around and looked at her in shock. That's pretty much all the money he had in his wallet. She looked at him over her shoulder, her flank bare and in perfect view for him. Her ass was smooth and plump. The small of her back dipped inwards and curved back out to her cheeks. He spun back around, threw his hands up in defeat and let them fall to his sides."Yeah, that's fine. Thanks."

She hung up and shot him an innocent smile. He walked back around and took his seat. She kept her distance just in case he pulled something while her guard was down, but he didn't so she dropped back onto the sofa. She tossed him his phone and it landed on his side of the sofa.

"Thanks for the food," Lupa said mockingly. Lincoln looked at her dead in the eyes and scowled. "What?" She said genuinely. "You said I can get anything if I called back."

"Yeah, anything to drink," Lincoln restated. "Not anything you want."

Lupa leaned back comfortably into the sofa and threw her feet up on the coffee table.

"Well, you should say things more clearly next time," Lupa said with a playful smile, letting her hands rest on her stomach and focused back to the screen.

Lincoln's eyes ran back down to her underwear. He looked away but was having less of a reaction to the sight. Which wasn't a good sign. Lupa noticed.

"What, you pedo?" Lupa spat.

"I told you to put on some pants," Lincoln ordered. Lupa looked at him up and down, scoffed, and turned back to her show.

"Don't tell me what to do in my own home," Lupa said. Lincoln was appalled. And she thought she had the right to call him a pedo. Is she serious? Something about the way she acted, the way she talked, grossed him out. "But I guess I better put some on before the pizza guy comes."

She got up and walked past him. She quickly went up the stairs and around the corner. When he heard a door slam upstairs, Lincoln sighed and hung his head. Lucy's daughter was fucking nuts. Everything about her made him uneasy. Comparing her to Lucy was impossible. They looked the same, sure, but they were far more different then he thought. Lucy was more timid, elegant, and refined. Her daughter was a slob, crude, and vulgar. Her attitude was what ticked him off the most. In the 30 minutes he's met her, she managed to make herself completely hateable. He can already tell that she was spoiled rotten. He tried his best to be nice, but she keeps treating him like a cunt.

And don't get him started with the pedo thing. Who the hell walks around naked like that?

He's honestly surprised that Lynn managed to handle someone like that. Thinking about it, she's always the one who's taking care of Lupa. There's no way she can just handle all that teasing and torment without flipping. Right? How does she do it? How does she deal with her?

Clearly Lynn has a limit or she wouldn't have taken up work just to get out. Maybe Lucy's daughter treats others differently. That would make sense. After all, Lynn is Lucy's sister, Lupa's aunt. Family. While Lincoln is Lucy's boyfriends, a stranger. Lynn always found a way to command respect and maybe she found out how to control Lupa. To a degree, at least. But how do you get respect from a low-life like that?

He shook his head and groaned.

Just as he heard footsteps behind him, his phone rang. He answered it and lifted it to his ear just so he wouldn't have to deal with that girl.

"Hello," Lincoln started.

"Hey, Linc" Lucy's voice sang from the other side. His expression lit up and a smile etched onto his face. He said a simple 'Hey' back and that was all. "Sorry for having you take care of Lupa for me. Lynn needs to pick up something before work so I might be out for a while."

"That's fine, don't worry about it," Lincoln said, but it wasn't fine. Not fine at all.

"I know Lupa can be kind of a handful but just let her do her own thing. She'll bore herself out eventually." Just as she finished the girl walked past him. Speak of the devil. She wore black sweats and white socks. She plopped herself back into her seat with a low humph. "And try not to take everything she says to personally. She can be _really _mean to new people. Is everything okay?"

He figured.

"Yeah, everything's fine. We're just chilling, watching some TV. We're pretty much friends already." Lincoln joked.

Lucy giggled. He heard Lupa blow a raspberry. He held a finger up to his lips and shushed her. She glanced over his way and aggressively flipped him the bird. He balled his fist and threw his head forward like he was about to fight. She did the same but Lincoln waved a dismissive hand like she was full of it.

"I ordered her pizza like you wanted me to," Lincoln smirked and Lupa noticed. "She was practically crying for food. I didn't know you raised such a baby."

Lucy giggled again. Lupa shot up from the sofa with her hands balled into fists. It looked like she was actually about to throw hands. Lincoln flinched mockingly and gestured her to calm down then pointed at the phone. She sat down without a word. She wouldn't dare do anything while her mom was on the line.

"It's good that you two are getting along." Lucy sounded somewhat relieved. "Is she there? Can you pass me to her?

"Sure," Lincoln said. He pulled the phone away and held it out. She held out her hand as if she wanted him to hand it to her. He chuckled and shook his head. He tossed the phone to her side and it landed comfortably on the cushion. Lupa snatched it and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hey mom," Her voice was sweet and light like a child. It almost made Lincoln laugh. "Yeah, everything's fine."

He heard a mumble from the phone and Lupa shook her head.

"Yeah, we're just watching TV and waiting for the pizza," There was a pause. "$25.50. No, it's with soda and wings. I know right, who knew your boyfriend was so generous." She gave him a toothy smile but Lincoln flared in response. "Yeah, he's cool. He sits really close and touches me a lot."

Lincoln's face twisted in disgust. He whispered for her to shut the hell up but she flipped him off again.

"But it's okay mom, because if you trust him then so do I." Lupa finished.

Lincoln's blood boiled. He mustered all his strength not to get up and rip the phone away from her, but he couldn't touch her for the same reason she couldn't touch him.

Lincoln heard another mumble from the phone and Lupa's expression completely changed. Her sly smile disappeared and all the joy in her face ran away. She sighed loudly.

"Yeah, I know," Lupa said disappointedly. "I know."

A second passed.

"I know," She repeated. "Yeah, I know."

Hm, Lincoln guessed Lucy was giving her a lecture through the phone. Servers her right. She looked down at her lap then off to the side. She faced away from Lincoln and whispered.

"Okay, love you too mom. Bye." She ended the call and tossed Lincoln his phone. A blush lightly coated her cheeks and her eyes were narrowed. Lincoln noticed and a smile stretched across his face. She almost looked human.

"What, embarrassed about telling your mom that you love her?" Lincoln poked. Lupa sunk into the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest. "You should try being nicer, it kinda suits you."

"You know for someone who doesn't suck a lot of dick, you really have a big mouth," Lupa said. Lincoln smiled with a swelling sense of victory washing over him. He didn't even want to retort to her little comment.

"So what'd your mom say?" Lincoln asked.

"She said she hates you," Lupa barked.

Harsh. Lincoln must've gotten to her. That made him happy. They watched her dumb show in silence. Tattoo artists worked frantically against time. Some of the art looked shitty, downright grade level drawings while others looked impressive. All of them worked tirelessly as if their careers depended on it.

After a minute, an announcer told them to put their tools down. Their designs were evaluated and judged critically. One of the artists started crying as she was voted off and sent back home. The credits rolled and they waited again impatiently.

"So what is it about my mom that you like?" Lupa asked suddenly.

"Hm?" Lincoln asked, needing a second for his thoughts to rush through.

"Why do you like my mom?" Lupa restated.

"Why I love your mom?" Lincoln repeated. Lupa flinched at the word _love_. "Well, I'm not sure. I just do."

"Oh, don't give me that '_I don't know'_ bullshit," Lupa uttered. "Tell me why you '_love' _my mom."

Lincoln fell silent. He leaned into the sofa and dipped his head back. He collected his thoughts. He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled.

"I guess she's different," Lincoln said honestly. Lupa tensed. She bit forcefully down on her teeth and felt her hands tightening.

"Different how?" Lupa demanded.

"I don't know. She just stands out even when she doesn't want to. I've never met a woman like her before. She doesn't do what I tell her to do, she's not a lifeless puppet, you know? She's dark and moody, but in a cute way." Lincoln looked at Lupa but she wasn't ready for the smile that was on his face. It caught her off guard. "She makes me feel things I've never felt before. I mean, I've dated countless women, but I guess that's all it was: dating. But with Lucy, it's love." The thought of Lucy leaving him randomly crossed his mind and that's when the truth came out. "She scares me."

A goofy smirk stretched across Lupa's face.

"Oh, so you like girls that scare you, huh?" Lupa teased. "You're the type of dudes that love getting dominated, huh?"

"Shut up, moron," Lincoln said.

"Don't call me a moron," Lupa ordered.

"Then don't say stupid stuff," Lincoln responded.

Fair enough, Lupa thought. The tattoo show started again. It was the next episode. It started with a recap of the previous episode where the girl got kicked out. So sad.

"You know, my mom's loved plenty of other guys," Lupa said with a tone in her voice that only meant to hurt.

There was a sour taste in Lincoln's mouth, He looked over at Lupa and stared her dead in the eyes. She stared back and without skipping a beat Lincoln said, "I noticed."

Then he turned his attention back to the screen. His tone was empty, emotionless and left his words dull. It was vague, but Lupa could sense a bit of hostility. She must've gotten him mad. Perfect.

"So how long have you been with her?" Lupa asked.

"fifteen months," Lincoln mumbled. Lupa nodded.

"Impressive. Let's see how long you last. The all-time record is 3 years and 3 months. That's my dad by the way." Lupa said smugly. "She really loved my dad too. Said they were going to get married and everything."

Lincoln's chest tightened and his breathing became ragged.

"She said he was the man of her dreams. Mom went on and on about how she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him and how he was going to be the father to her kids. Well, kid." Lupa chuckled.

Lincoln mumbled something but Lupa didn't quite hear it.

"What'd you say?" Lupa asked aggressively. She cupped a hand behind her ear.

"Nothing," Lincoln said.

"Say it, pussy," Lupa ordered.

Just as he was about to burst out, the doorbell rang throughout the house. They both sat in silence, the sounds from the show dancing in the air. Lincoln got up from the sofa and marched to the door. He opened it and was greeted by a young teen with freckles sprinkled across his cheeks. He was a skinny, fragile boy that held a pizza box in both hands. The box of wings and the soda were on top of it, wrapped in a plastic bag to shield it from the rain. Lincoln noticed the dude was also drenched but he didn't seem to mind.

"Pizza delivery for Lincoln Vice." His voice was raspy and uneven like a fork scraping against a plate.

"Yeah, that's me." Lincoln fished into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He whipped out a ten and twenty bill. He handed the dude the money and Lincoln took the stuff. The teen was fiddling with his pockets, trying to find the right change but Lincoln told him to keep it. The delivery man stood there, dumbstruck for a second.

"O-oh, thank you." He said.

"No problem," Lincoln said before he walked inside and closed to door with his foot. He walked into the kitchen and placed the hot pizza box onto the table. He ripped the plastic open and pulled out the soda.

Of course it was warm.

He threw the soda in the fridge and focused on the rest. He got a plate and set it next to the pizza and box of wings. He walked back into the living room and sank back into his spot. He looked at the TV like he hadn't even moved.

"You're food's ready," Lincoln said.

"Nice," Lupa said.

She didn't get up from her seat. She just kept on watching her show. Lincoln noticed but didn't mind it too much. He watched the show with his arms crossed and his back deep into the soft cushions. His lids fell over his eyes in boredom and disinterest. Time seemed to fly by like nothing. Another episode of that girl's tattoo show passed and they were well past 10 minutes into the next one. Lincoln had almost forgotten about the pizza and wings until the captivating smell drifted into the living room. The delicious fragrance lingered in the air and made the back of Lincoln's mouth water despite his full stomach.

"You're not gonna eat the pizza?" Lincoln blandly asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"No, I'm not hungry," Lupa said.

Lincoln was about to lash out again but when he turned, he noticed the curl of her lips on her pale face and knew she was kidding.

"Can you go bring me a plate though?" Lupa asked kindly. It caught Lincoln by surprise. Common decency told him that he should go fetch her a slice of pizza and her hot wings but she wasn't common or decent. But-

"Fine," Lincoln spat.

He got up with a grunt and walked back into the kitchen. He grabbed the plate he set down a while ago and flipped the pizza box open. He grabbed two random slices and put them on the plate. He then opened the box of wings and threw two on the plate. He was contemplating whether he should give it a minute in the microwave but easily decided that it was warm enough. He closed the pizza box and sealed the box of wings then carried the plate back into the living room. He walked over to Lupa and pushed the plate towards her.

"Here," he said firmly. She looked at the food for a second then took the plate in both hands. Her droopy eyes stayed stagnant and cold. Lincoln stood in front of her, waiting patiently for a 'thanks' but then walked back to the far end of the couch when she said nothing. His body gave away under his weight and he groaned deeply as his body rested comfortably into the sofa.

Lincoln looked back to the TV. Some old guy was crying, his eyes were red and his face flushed. He was a bald, wrinkly man with dark facial hair. He had a snake tattoo on the side of his face that wrapped around his ear and stopped below his cheek. Lincoln shuttered at the thought of getting a tattoo anywhere near his face. He never got one before but from what he's heard, it hurt like hell. Or maybe that was getting it removed. Either way, Lincoln would never dream of getting a tattoo. Before he could figure out why the guy was crying, Lupa held the plate out to him.

"Want some?" She offered. Lincoln looked at the plate, then to her, then back to the plate. He turned and focused back on the show.

"No, I'm good," Lincoln replied. "Thanks."

"Dude, take some," Lupa commanded.

"I don't want any," Lincoln said tightly. "I already ate."

Lupa eyed him from the top of his head down to his feet. She snickered at what she saw.

"Oh yeah?" She said teasingly. "What'd you eat, a salad? Or a couple of carrots on your way here?"

Lincoln was going through an amalgamation of annoyance and confusion. He honestly couldn't predict her. One moment she was all nice and stuff then the next she was acting like a cunt. She was rough and rowdy, nothing like her mother except in appearance alone. Every time he glanced at that girl from the corner of his eyes, he saw Lucy. It made him extremely uncomfortable. He could only convince himself that they weren't the same. Lucy was perfect, her daughter was far less than so. That girl must've gotten her rotten behavior from her bastard father. Lincoln's never met the man in his life but he couldn't help imagine strangling the life out of him. Or cutting him down with his words on how a father could've raised a failure of a daughter.

He shouldn't let her bother him, though. She was a punk, a lowlife, nothing. People like her strived off attention, whether it be good or bad. The best thing Lincoln could do is ignore her and watch her curl up like a dying bug. He chuckled to himself.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw her stand up. His muscles tightened and he swallowed a dry lump in his throat. She walked up to him and held out the plate close to his chest, making it almost impossible to deny it.

"Take it," Lupa ordered with one hand out and the other on her hip. Her fierce eyes displayed a slight bit of frustration that made Lincoln displeased.

Who the hell did she think she was, bossing him around like that? Maybe she can get away with whatever she wanted I'm her delicate, spoiled world but Lincoln was no pushover. Was she like this to everyone? To Lucy?

Oh God, he hoped she wasn't. From what he picked up from that phone call, though, Lucy was much more in control than it seemed. And it was Lupa's job to drive the situation as far south as she possibly can. But Lincoln was no idiot. He knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted him to get mad. Really mad. As to why, he's not exactly sure. But she was trying her best with insults that bothered him the most. Through Lucy.

He wasn't about to play her game though. He was in much more control of his emotions after his realization.

"I said I'm not hungry," Lincoln said in a low voice that shook the center of his chest. His roaring words left Lupa with the rising sense of intimidation in her heart. She would've backed up if this was some random guy, but to her, Lincoln wasn't some random guy. And she wasn't about to let him scare her like that.

She jabbed the plate into his chest, hoping that he'd reflexively grab the plate but he didn't. He flinched instead at the pain. A piece of the hot wing rolled off the plate and fell on his shirt. The grease and fat bleed into the fabric. It began to roll off his stomach and slithered down to his pants. He pressed his knees tightly together, preventing the wing from slipping through his thighs and ruining Lucy's sofa. The piece rested snuggly between his legs. He had his arms out and he looked down at the mess. His clothes were wet and filthy now.

"Oh," Lupa mustered out. "My bad."

"Don't worry about it," He said dryly.

His pointer finger and thumb sunk into the hot wing, more grease and spicy coating dripping out. The slimy fat and oil danced around his fingers and made the piece almost slip. He quickly raised the wing above his head and threw it onto the plate. Lupa brought to plate a bit forward in a sad attempt to help, but only after the wing was resting on the pizza.

Lincoln looked back down at his shirt and pants. There was a dark stain made out of grease that splattered over his shirt and pants. He was not happy about that, but he didn't care. Lupa stood idly by like a fool, too embarrassed to move.

Lincoln sighed dramatically. He got up slowly and Lupa took a step back. It just now registered to her how much he towered over her.

"You got a bathroom?" Lincoln asked stupidly.

"Uh, yeah," Lupa answered, also stupidly.

"Where?" Lincoln stated, annoyed that she didn't get the hint.

"Up the stairs, down the hall," Lupa said timidly.

Lincoln strolled up the stairs and disappeared around the corner.

Lupa looked up the stairs even when she heard the bathroom door open and close faintly. She looked down at her plate where a half-eaten pizza and dirty wings lie. Her appetite slithered away and the back of her neck burned. Her pale face turned red and for the first time in the longest time, she felt shame.

* * *

"Did you hear something?" Lucy asked.

"Nope," Lynn said confidently. Her hands tucked behind her neck, cradling her head gently. Her eyes were closed and a soft smile painted on her face that felt foreign to her. The passenger seat was reclined as far back as it could go, in the form of a makeshift bed with her feet up on the dashboard.

Lucy hummed to herself. She took a sip of her warm coffee. The hot drink quickly calmed her nerves and she let out a satisfied sigh. The heavy rain crashed all around the car where they parked and rested in the empty parking lot of a closed Walmart.

* * *

Lincoln turned the faucet and the rushing water came to a halt. The irritating hiss off the sink stayed in his ears for a second until he was finally alone. His wet hands dripped. He watched as the droplets of water ran from his upturned palms to the dark, opposite side of his hands. He looked in the mirror and saw what work he made of the mess. The greasy spot on his shirt was a dry smudge now. He was going to have a tough time getting that out but it didn't matter right now. He looked at his pants and there was also a dark spot in his left thigh where the hot wing mostly landed.

He looked at himself in full view of the mirror. He sighed and shook his head. He was a mess. His clothes wrinkled from the rain and stained from the food. His face seemed more bleak, losing all the hope the day would bring with him and Lucy. Even his hair seems darker. It was all in his imagination, though. He looked at his clothes again and winced. He did the best he could, that's about enough he could say. He thought about going back down into the living room, but then his mind went blank. He stayed watching himself in the mirror. His eyes burned back into his reflection and it almost seemed like he wasn't alone. He blinked and his eyes stung as if dry. He rubbed his eyes with his palms and took a seat on the toilet lid. He hunched over and ran a cold hand through his hair.

When his fingers brushed his scalp, he was surprised by the icy touch of his skin. And in a split second, he realized he was freezing cold. Must've been the rain from earlier. He never really dried himself off from that. He just… forgot. That makes sense. The first thing he did when coming into this house was seeing that damned girl. Every second with her was nothing but constant nagging and fury. Thinking about it now, he didn't want to go back down.

Instead, he whipped out his phone. He scrolled through his apps mindlessly until he decided to check his social media. All of it. Even the ones he didn't use anymore. He checked his Snapchat, Instagram, and Twitter. God, he even checked his old Facebook account. His feed was empty, vacant like a desert. He saw the same posts his friends shared, some pitiful news on celebrities and other 'interesting' facts under his subscriptions. He checked his emails, making sure he read every single one. When that wasn't enough, he scrolled through his apps again and opened a game he didn't even know he had. He played it, not knowing what to do. When he got bored with that, he went on and checked the internet. Nothing caught his interest but it didn't matter.

He just didn't want to go back outside.

Then sudden realization struck him. If he could see himself, how pathetic would he look? He was practically hiding in the bathroom to get away from that girl. He wasn't afraid of her. At least, he hoped he wasn't.

No. He wasn't.

He was sure of that.

Not afraid.

He was sparing himself the torment of spending another second with Lucy's daughter. Something about her made him uneasy. It was unexplainable.

Maybe it was her rash behavior. Or maybe it was her manners.

The way she looked. The way she talked. The way she acted.

Everything about her made Lincoln uncomfortable. Her jokes, her hair, her eyes, her face.

She looked too much like Lucy but was in no way _like _Lucy. It was strange.

It was impossible to talk to her. Her eyes always seem critical and judgmental.

It all started off good. He took her teasing like a champ and shot some jokes back. But she took it too far, I think. It almost felt like she was against him and Lucy being together.

Does it matter what she thinks, though?

Lincoln was happy. Lucy was happy.

He hoped.

But who was that guy before him?

The father to Lucy's daughter.

What made him so special?

**NO!**

There was nothing special about him. He left Lucy behind. As far as Lincoln's concerned, that man was a deadbeat loser that didn't deserve Lucy. If that man truly cared about her the way Lincoln does then he would've stayed here with her. But he didn't. Now, it was Lincoln's chance for happiness.

And that girl.

She was trying to tear them apart. Just like her father.

The back of Lincoln's neck felt sore. There was a tight pressure aching against his skull. His neck felt sore and his shoulders stiff. He snapped his chin in one direction and the bones in his neck cracked. The aching feeling went away and he stood up from the toilet.

He wrapped his hands around the knob tightly, his knuckles turning white. He felt like he could bend the metal knob if he squeezed hard enough. And in about a second, he was about to try to tear down the door. He imagined marching down the stairs with his fists balled, walking into the living room and doing something unimaginable.

He shook his head and took his hand away from the door. He felt his back burn and his head boil. He heard a soft melody, like the playing of a piano. He turned and looked back into the mirror. He saw himself again and noticed someone different.

He wasn't alone.

There was him and himself.

He walked over to the sink and turned to the faucet. Cold water rushed out. He mindlessly cupped his hands under the water, collecting a large puddle of icy water. He bent over and splashed the water over his face. A shiver and a whimper came out naturally. He looked back into the mirror and saw only himself.

He was alone again.

He sighed in relief.

His hands and face were dripping wet. He looked around for a towel but when he couldn't find one, he used the clean part of his shirt to clean his face and whipped his hands on his pants. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He repeated that over and over again until his chest stopped pounding.

He waited there for what felt like a minute, and when he was finally composed, he walked out of the bathroom and down the stairs. His footsteps sounded like gunshots in his ears. The sound of the TV got louder and louder as he got closer and closer. He ignored the hot, twisting pain in his head. He turned into the living room and without noticing, he took his seat back into the sofa. He didn't look at her, he looked at the TV. He didn't even notice when she shot him a glimpse of concern. He ignored her completely and focused on the show.

He had an anger problem, and much like his other insecurities, he didn't like talking about it.

…

"You good?" Lupa asked from the far side of the room. Her words were drenched in worry that almost caught Lincoln off guard. Almost.

"Yeah," He replied calmly. There must've been something in his voice because she stared at him. When he looked at her from the corner of his eyes, she looked away. Then when he focused back onto the TV, she turned her head back towards him. He looked at her again but before he could catch her, she quickly turned away again.

Irritating. She was fucking irritating. When he noticed her looking at him again, he called her out.

"What?" Lincoln said with an edge.

"Nothing," Lupa replied casually.

Lincoln knew it wasn't nothing. With her, it was always something. That's just the type of person she is. Was she trying to get him to notice something? Was there something on his face? No. She was looking at his shirt and pants. Was she?

Before he got lost in his mind, she looked at him again. He quickly turned and caught her. Her focus was above his head. Her eyes quickly came down and their eyes met. Her's were wide and full of curiosity. His were slitted and sharp with annoyance. He looked up at his brows, thinking he could see what was on his head. When he noticed she was looking at his hair, he growled to himself.

"What?" He said, more commanding than ever.

"Nothing," She replied again. She stayed looking at him, their eyes burning into each other. Her's were strong with strange innocence. The dark bags seemed to fade away and her shallow eyes weren't as dreadful as they seemed. Lincoln was convinced it was all a trick. He knew she was going to say something. Something about this hair. "I was just wondering about your hair."

There it was.

"Wondering what?" Lincoln asked, letting his tone come down to a smooth calm.

"How'd it get like that?" Lupa asked bluntly.

Lincoln felt his heart jump. He reared his head back as if he'd been slapped. His brows pinched and he sighed in frustration. He buried his back into the sofa and crossed his arms. He turned away and looked into the fireplace.

His white hair always made him the center of attention. Some of it was good, and others, not so good. There were always some people that thought his hair was kind of cool and some girls called it pretty, which was embarrassing. But the admiration was always outweighed by the criticism and the teasing. The one question everyone asked at some point was 'how'd it happen?' He guessed that people thought he dyed his hair or something so they never believed him when he said he was born that way.

"Birth defect," Lincoln said. That wasn't exactly it, but he honestly wasn't so far from the truth. He was born a freak. And with his deformed teeth, his self-loathing skyrocketed. He gambled with the thought of dying it to a natural color. Brown or black maybe, since that seemed like the common color for hair. Or maybe a dirty blonde since his parents both had blonde hair, but then again… he didn't like his parents.

Then he decided to not do anything. Hiding it was pointless. He may not like his appearance but it was still him. If he hid it then that would be no different than running away from his problems. And after a while, he noticed that there was nothing wrong with his hair. Dying it would be idiotic. Does a fat man hide under a shirt of skinny? Or does an ugly person hide behind a mask of beauty? A scrawny boy with coats of muscle?

There was no shame in feeling bad about his appearance but trying to pretend his flaws didn't exist under a layer of lies was worse than shame and embarrassment combined.

"Oh," Lupa sounded. "I think it looks nice."

No, it doesn't.

Lincoln let out a dry breath of air through his nose. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He looked over at the girl. Her locks of white hair flowed down the side of her head and swayed gently like curtains. Her smooth face was pale but not like her mother's. Her cheeks donned three freckled that almost mimicked his. He smiled but his eyes remained burdened.

"It looks better on you," Lincoln said with total sincerity. Something about her hair made her look captivating. Take that away and she was no different than any other punk on the streets. But right now she looked… nice. For a moment, Lincoln didn't feel so alone. All his life, he believed that his hair was one of his many plights but she managed to twist that and make it look favorable. There was truly nothing horrible Lincoln could say about her.

"Thanks," was all she said in return with a quick smile.

Then they sat in silence.

Mute.

Besides the noise coming from the TV, they sat in uncomfortable silence. It was somewhat painful. Lincoln needed to keep the conversation going somehow. Talking to her was his only way of chipping away at her awfulness. She wasn't a bad person, he guessed she was just defensive. But he wasn't going to get anywhere if he just sat there and did nothing.

Lincoln laughed to himself. Lucy was right, he _was _terrible at socializing but he was ready to prove her wrong.

"So what's your hair color?" Lincoln asked out of the blue. She smirked and pointed to her head.

"White," she said firmly but with a crack of a smile. "Just like you, bunny boy."

"Funny," Lincoln said sarcastically. "I mean your natural hair. It's black, right?"

"Yeah, just like Lucy's," Lupa said. Then she said it again. Lincoln kept ignoring it but it always scratched the back of his head.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Lincoln asked.

"What?" Lupa was confused. "Lucy?"

"Yeah," Lincoln reassured. She shrugged.

"I always call her Lucy," Lupa said. "Not to her face, though. She'd kick my ass if I did."

"Makes sense," Lincoln said. "But don't you think that's a little… detached?

"Nah," Lupa leaned back into the sofa and stretched. "You know her as Lucy, I know her as mom. If we were talking about her to strangers and were like 'hey, do you know my mom?' then people would be like 'who?'" Lincoln understood what she meant. " I mean, let's say I'm introducing you to people. I wouldn't say 'this is my mom's boyfriend,' or this is 'Lucy's boyfriend.' That's just dumb. I'll just say 'This is Lincoln' and move on with it. But it's not like we're ever gonna be seen together." Lupa chuckled. "People might think you're my dad."

Lincoln waited for her to continue but she looked at the floor with a twisted smile. Then her face went crimson red.

"I mean, not that that's a problem or anything." She flustered. "I mean, I would- _Wouldn't_. I meant wouldn't- mind it. You're cool and all, but you're not like him." Lupa finished.

Lincoln waited out the tension in the room. It was so thick he could cut it with a knife. He looked down at his feet and fiddled with his intertwined fingers. He licked his dry lips and cleared his throat. He shot a quick glance up at the girl. A crimson stain was smudged across her pale cheeks but her eyes were dim like usual. Her head was hung and her focus was on the ground.

"So what _was _your father like?" Lincoln managed to spit out, hoping it wasn't a sensitive enough topic to avoid. She looked up at him with wide eyes, caught by surprise.

She looked back down at her feet and shrugged.

"I don't know," She replied quietly, defeated.

Lincoln's brows pinched.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

Her eyes scurried around the floor as if what she was looking for was running around her feet. Then she looked straight ahead and stared through the wall.

"Mom told me that my dad passed away a little while before I was born," Lupa said. Lincoln's heart skipped a beat. A cold shiver ran down his spine and he couldn't help but shift in his seat. He suddenly got uncomfortable with the topic.

"I never got to meet him," Lupa said softly, her words coming out gentle and meek like Lincoln has never seen.

She turned and looked him in the eyes. Lincoln caught her gaze and didn't break away from them, fearing he might do something wrong if he did. He gulped and his dry throat burned in return. Then, in a split second, his heart stopped at the sight in front of him.

She smiled.

The corner of her lips stretched across her face and touched ear to ear in a display of painful joy, acceptance, and something else that Lincoln couldn't understand. Her eyes seemed shallow even though light reflected from them like diamonds. Her hair swayed smoothly with the ghostly brush of flowing breeze.

"Mom told me he was a really nice man," Lupa muttered. "And that he would've been a great dad."

She looked down at her laps, the smile on her face never fading.

"You know I-"

Her voice cracked and the corner of her lip twitched. When she was sure that he noticed, she cried. Her eyes pooled and shimmered in the light. A stray tear ran down the side of her cheek like a shooting star. Then another and another. She turned away from him and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. She sniffed and whimpered like a poor dog.

Oh, how she hated this feeling. To feel naked and ashamed in front of a stranger.

Lincoln didn't know what to do. He didn't want to get close to her. He was a bit scared. But he couldn't just leave her like that, right? No, he couldn't get near her. Despite her waterworks, something inside Lincoln still made him uneasy around her.

He said the first thing that came to mind.

"Sorry," He said.

She chuckled through her sobs. She brushed away the tears from her cheeks and let out another giggle.

"Don't be," Lupa added. "It's my fault. I'm getting too emotional over it."

And something about that struck Lincoln as wrong. Is it _wrong _to still be emotional over a death?

Lincoln wasn't sure. Thinking about his parents dying didn't strike anything in him. No sadness, no fear, pity, despair.

Nothing.

If it happened, it happened. But maybe it was his hidden hatred for his parents that was clouding his judgment. After all, if he lost his parents, his only family, then it truly wouldn't matter to him. As long as he still had Lucy.

And maybe the Loud family too.

They were annoying at worst, but warm at best.

Warm?

Yeah… warm.

He was envious of their family. Proud parents, strong bonds, siblings. They had everything he didn't. The Loud sisters really pissed him off most of the time too but when he got past that, he loved spending time with them all. It almost felt like he was part of the family.

And maybe he could be if only he asked Lucy a very important question. But he would save that for another time.

"It's fine," Lincoln said. "I shouldn't have asked."

They sat in silence for the hundredth time. The sounds of the TV were mute to their ears, but this time they sat together in comfort. Both were still far away from each other but sharing each other's company was nice. To Lincoln at least.

"You love my mom, right?" Lupa asked suddenly.

Lincoln looked at her and noticed that her eyes were swollen red and her face was less pale than before. Here lively face only seemed so when she was weeping. Lincoln hoped he would never see her cry again. Something about it made him want her to stop. He wanted to see her smile like before because something about it seemed… real. The sound of her sobs was painful, making his heart ache and his soul tear. In truth, it just made him uncomfortable.

"Yeah," He replied. "I do."

She smiled faintly again and nodded her head.

"Why do you ask?" Lincoln said.

"Just wondering," Lupa replied.

It took Lincoln a moment, but when he figured it out, he couldn't help but let a genuine smile appear on his face.

He looked at his lap and then at the TV. For a moment, he stared blankly at the screen then when his mind went to his growling stomach, he stood up and made his way to the kitchen.

"Imma get some pizza," Lincoln said. "You want some?"

"Sure," was her only response.

He didn't see her face, but somehow he can tell that she was smiling. A pang in his chest that felt foreign to him spread across his body like hot water. In the kitchen, he got a couple of slices and threw them onto two plates. He chuckled to himself. He couldn't believe her crying was all it took to teach her some manners.

Or maybe she wasn't so bad to begin with. She was like a sacred cat cornered to a wall. When he tried getting close, she just hissed and clawed at him. At some point, he gave up and kept his distance but maybe that wasn't the most helpful thing to do for a wounded person. She kind of reminded him of himself. To some degree.

She's a single child alone in a big house while her mother is out and about with work or Lincoln. No wonder she leaves randomly. She has nothing to do here. No one to talk to.

Lincoln related to that. A lot. As a teen, he spent most of his time at home doing homework or relaxing. The only time he talked to friends was when he was at school. Or whenever they visited, but that was rare.

That's not to say he didn't like being alone. It was nice sometimes and very relaxing.

But it takes a minute of loneliness to truly miss paradise.

He chuckled again, this time with pity aimed at himself. He remembered asking mom and dad for a brother long ago. Someone he could talk to, or play sports with, or watch movies but the best he got was a pet dog.

Not exactly what he wanted but it still meant a lot to him. He named him Charles. He passed away a long time ago though. It broke his heart and he couldn't muster up the strength to get another dog.

Maybe he should get Lupa a pet. Would Lucy allow it?

Maybe. Maybe not. That was something they would discuss later down the road. He picked up both plates and walked back into the living room. He handed one to her and she mumbled a thanks. He sat on the sofa she was on. Near but not too near. She noticed but said nothing. Lincoln noticed a smile creep on the corner of her face. He couldn't help but smile too.

They ate and watched TV.

Lincoln couldn't say he completely liked Lupa but he was somewhat fond of her. She was troubling and annoying but something told him that he needed to tolerate it for the rest of his life. He was going to marry Lucy, there was no doubt about that, and he couldn't just keep ignoring Lupa like she was some removable mistake while Lucy and him had a child of their own. He wasn't going to brush her to the side even though that's what he wanted to do at first. It was cruel and unfair.

He guessed that having Lupa around was like having a stranger in the family. She wasn't his daughter, she was more like a stranger but he was ignorant and foolish to think that. A piece of him felt that if there was enough love for him to give to Lucy then _maybe _he could spare some for Lupa too.

No, he was certain he could.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She looked almost angelic while she drenched in innocence and youth. The bags under her eyes were still heavy and dark. Her lids were dark too and her white hair brushed her shoulders. God, she looked so much like Lucy. And with her white hair, he entertained the idea that she was somehow his child. And something about that didn't sound so bad. There was something in him that was telling him to protect her and genuinely hoping that one day… she could call him dad.

The rain outside kept crashing but it was dull to their ears. They only basked in the awkward comfort, letting time pass them by. And every minute they had to themselves felt like bliss


End file.
